


Agape

by xtobefreex



Series: Akeshuake Server 2020 Secret Santa [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Confidant spoilers, First Date, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Light bashing on the Phantom Thieves but for a reason, M/M, Mutual Pining, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Ren has trauma from his arrests, angst with fluff, moments of fluff but follows canon to a degree so will get sad, panic attacks and dissociation, response from trauma, the happy ending comes in part two I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtobefreex/pseuds/xtobefreex
Summary: Agape (ἀγάπη):[agapē](noun) known as the purest type of love, unconditional and lasting."It meant nothing when their hands brushing together turned to linking pinkies, their shoulders brushing together as they looked at the jellyfish as they glowed, adding to the colour inside the tank. They didn’t have to say anything, the silence being rather comforting as they were no longer the thief and detective, but instead just Ren Amamiya and Goro Akechi.". . .[ Akeshuake Velvet Room Server's Secret Santa 2020 gift — for Jude. I hope you enjoy it. 💙 ]
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Akeshuake Server 2020 Secret Santa [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062014
Comments: 21
Kudos: 87





	1. The First Kiss Between the Detective and Thief

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting on AO3, so please let me know if anything looks wonky formatting wise! 
> 
> [Jude](https://twitter.com/judeyunchili/), I hope you enjoy your gift. 💙 This is going to be broken up into two parts with around 5 chapters each because this was a monster to write and unfortunately I don't have everything written yet due to circumstances.
> 
> (Also just know that I was a clown and this totally got out of hand so it's super long altogether. Even still, I hope you enjoy!)
> 
> [ Prompts : **First kiss/confession (partially!)** | ~~Vampire Akechi~~ | **First date (partially!)** ]
> 
> A big thank you to [Lotus ](/users/LovelyLotus/) , [Pana ](/users/panaceaa/) , and my lovely gf for reading over this entire thing for me. You guys are amazing!

When Ren met Goro Akechi for the first time on June 9th, he never imagined that the Ace Detective would become so deeply ingrained in his life. 

—at least, that’s what he would have told anyone else had they asked him that on his wedding day, but truthfully? Ren knew that there was something special about Goro from the very start. He just didn’t know that Goro would take many of his firsts; he wasn’t one for the sentimentality of _first times_ , as much as Goro might call him a sentimental fool when flustered. First times for anything often meant that it was awkward and sloppy ( _unless you were Goro Akechi_ , he thought wryly, _and practiced everything so nobody would see you being imperfect_ ) and Ren simply preferred the more experienced times that followed the first time.

. . .

## The First Kiss Between the Detective and the Thief

July 28th, 2016 — July 29th, 2016

For someone who didn’t often have free time, Goro Akechi seemed to spend a lot of whatever he had of it with Ren. 

(And that meant so much to Ren, really, because he _knew_ that Akechi was very careful about how he presented himself and yet he still chose to hang around _him,_ of all people. Ren didn’t doubt that Akechi didn’t already know of his arrest record, seeing as Sojiro wasn’t exactly subtle in telling him to be careful in what he did while Akechi was inside the café that one time… In any case, although Ren had his suspicions about Akechi—Goro, he was glad that they could spend time together.) 

Akechi often didn’t message him unless he wanted to hang out (with the occasional friendly debate that they would have over a multitude of topics, something that Ren actually _enjoyed_ ), and even then that wasn’t able to happen often due to his busy schedule and the timing of Ren’s Palace infiltrations with the Thieves. 

So when Ren received a text right before he fell asleep and saw that it was in fact _not_ Ryuji or Yusuke like he had expected, he was surprised to see that it was from Akechi. Akechi had never texted him this late, but Ren figured that he would naturally be up around this time, juggling cases and schoolwork (which brought up several more concerns for Ren, but he pushed them away for later, not wanting to analyse his thoughts on Akechi’s lifestyle and how it made him feel at the current time— he was good at that really, deflecting and dodging his feelings as if they were attacks from Shadows in the Metaverse). Skimming over the details, Ren sent a confirmation without another thought, leaving future Ren to deal with the planned outing. 

It only made sense that he would almost forget about the outing that morning, only remembering about it a mere two hours before they had planned to meet up. He gave Morgana some weak excuse about hanging out with Shinya for the day before heading out to the bathhouse to get ready, not bothering to take his time. If Ren was the gambling type, he would put money on the fact that Akechi would be there either early, or just on time. (He could almost hear his “ _as an Ace Detective_ ” spiel as he thought this, and it almost made him stop in his tracks and wonder just how much time he had spent with the other teen to be able to hear the guy when something reminded Ren of him.) 

Running his fingers through his still wet curls, Ren made the effort to attempt to tame them (though he likely didn’t try as hard as he should have, knowing that it was just a lost cause) as he walked to the station, absentmindedly swiping his transit card while looking at his phone screen in an attempt to look busy. On the black screen, gunmetal grey eyes looked back at him, silently judging him. Why was he going to the aquarium with Akechi anyways— wasn’t that a date spot? Ren could vaguely remember reading about the Shinagawa Aquarium in one of the date magazines Morgana had asked him to buy (his friend still had the idea that he even had a chance with Ann, and well… not to be rude, but Ren didn’t think that Morgana had any chance with her seeing as they weren’t even the same species). 

( _Deflect, deflect, deflect._ He would wisely ignore how his cheeks heated and burned slightly at the thought of Akechi asking him on a da—)

The subway announcer’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts—thankfully, as Ren didn’t want to think further into them—and he transferred to Osaki Line, glad that he wouldn’t be late (or, rather, _too_ late, should Akechi do what Ren thinks he will do and attempt to assert some sort of strange type of dominance over Ren by appearing earlier than the time that they agreed to meet up at). He wished that he brought a book or something for his hands, feeling the urge to mess with his hair. It was easier than just mindlessly staring at his phone and draining the battery for the next half hour, and Ren gave in within the next minute to his urges, playing with his bangs absentmindedly while staring off into space. Nobody bothered him for the 15 or so minutes that he was on the train and the rest of his transit remained just as uneventful, thankfully. 

Ren had finally arrived at the station when his phone had buzzed. 

_Ah, seems that Akechi has some rather uncanny timing—_

“Amamiya-kun, thank you for accepting my invitation,” he heard from behind him, causing his shoulders to involuntarily raise up minutely. ( _What the hell, who texts someone right before sneaking up on them like that?_ he wondered incredulously, the sound of the other boy’s voice bringing back his unwanted thoughts about their outing, but he pushpushpushed them back again, ignoring Arsène’s teasing coo in response.) Akechi must have noticed (because of _course_ he did, he _was_ an Ace Detective, renowned for his solving of previously-thought to be unsolvable cases) because he added, “I apologise if I inconvenienced you, you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to. I would have understood.” 

Ren whirled around and in front of him stood Akechi dressed in the typical attire that he wore when he hung out with Ren— a dorky blue argyle-patterned vest with a white dress shirt, with khakis and brown dress shoes to match. Did Akechi wear these sort of things because he felt as if he had to in order to maintain his image, or was this just what the real Goro Akechi dressed like? (Why did he even care?) 

“It wasn’t a problem, I wanted to hang out with you today. You don’t have to act like I was forced here,” he replied, a bit of Joker coming in as he fought to calm his pounding heartbeat. His voice was calm and steady, but on the inside, he was most certainly _not_. (Even though he looked like a dork, how did Akechi look so attractive? _Why_ was he attractive to Ren? Was there something wrong with Ren for liking the detective that had publicly announced that he would stop at nothing to catch the Phantom Thieves? Is this what Futaba calls gay panic?) 

(As Sojiro would say, _hooh boy. Don’t think, Ren. Don’t think._ ) 

Maroon eyes looked back at him, looking slightly surprised with a hint of _something else_ mixed in with it—what it was, Ren didn’t know, though he really wished that he did know. (—no, he really _didn’t_ want to know, he told himself firmly. He _absolutely,_ under no circumstances whatsoever wanted to know what ran through Goro Akechi’s mind. Ever.) The two of them both stayed silent for a moment, and just as Ren began to wonder if he had made it awkward or not, Akechi spoke up again. 

“N-Nonetheless, thank you.” Akechi seemed a bit off guard, and Ren didn’t really know what to think about that. He had just been honest; was it the way he had said it that had thrown Akechi off, or was it something else? “Well, shall we go?” 

(Ren really hated the formal way that Akechi spoke to him when they were out in the public eye together. He liked it much more when Akechi spoke to him more plainly, more unafraid to speak his mind like how he does when they’re at the Jazz Jin together.)

( _Ah, mon petit voleur,_ Arsène teased, _l’inspecteur c’est ton trésor, oui? Comme c’est précieux!_ )

(Ren promptly told Arsène to shut up, valiantly trying his best to ignore Akechi’s curious and slightly concerned look that was sent his way after he slammed his palm into his forehead while also attempting to ignore the growing heat in his face. He waved it off as forgetting to feed Morgana, earning an amused snort from Akechi followed by the sight of a bright red detective.)

Together the two of them walked around the aquarium, Ren being drawn in by the soft spoken obscure facts that Akechi would tell him as they’d look at the exhibits, their fingers brushing together every so often as they kept close to one another. 

Ren absolutely wasn’t drawn in by the gentle blue lighting that had shone in the exhibit tanks, bouncing off onto Akechi and enveloping him in a halo of blue.

He most certainly wasn’t charmed by the way Akechi had rattled off facts for everything that was in the aquarium, looking at Ren every so often as if he were looking for praise. (He probably had just looked facts up online, but even so…) 

(He wasn’t in denial, not at all. He had no idea what Arsène was talking about. Nope. None. Nada. Zilch. Rien. _Nothing._ )

It meant nothing when their hands brushing together turned to linking pinkies, their shoulders brushing together as they looked at the jellyfish as they glowed, adding to the colour inside the tank. They didn’t have to say anything, the silence being rather comforting as they were no longer the thief and detective, but instead just Ren Amamiya and Goro Akechi. 

“Oh hey, look who it is!” 

(The masks that they had discarded for those few ~~precious~~ moments were promptly picked up and put back on, as if they had never been put down in the first place. Their pinkies were no longer linked nor did their shoulders touch. There was some distancedistancedistance between the two of them now, and Ren could no longer feel the warmth that Goro had exuded—)

He was no longer Ren Amamiya, and the boy beside him was no longer Goro Akechi. Now, he was Joker, the confidant to the aspiring drunkard of a journalist who had interrupted their outing, a twinkle in her eye that reminded him of exactly why she was represented by the Devil arcana. Ohya gave the both of them an exuberant smile, looking more lively than Ren had ever seen her—not that he had met with her anywhere but at the Crossroads bar. 

Akechi seemed tense beside him, a plastic smile looking slightly too rigid to look friendly. 

“Ah, do you know her, Amamiya-kun?” Akechi sounded annoyed with the interruption, and Ohya’s eyes sparkled with barely hidden mirth. Ren was quick to confirm that he knew her with a nod, wondering why she had come over to interrupt them in the first place. 

“I didn’t know that you knew Akechi-kun, Ren-kun. You sure do have a lot of friends, huh?” Oh. Ohya knew _exactly_ what she was doing here, and Ren didn’t like it. Personally, he didn’t enjoy being the butt of some joke, especially if Ohya was the one telling it. 

“Don’t be so loud about it… Ohya, why are you here?” Ren was rather blunt and for once he didn’t feel the need to hide his irritation, knowing that the older woman would back off if she knew that she struck a nerve. She might be an aspiring alcoholic, but she was in no shape or form stupid; that was the way that their relationship worked. He didn’t ask anything about her life, and she only came to him for news on the Phantom Thieves, which benefited him in the long run. Her asking about his (purely platonic) relationship with Akechi was only her attempting to cause trouble and stick her nose in his business wasn’t part of that deal. 

As expected, Ohya’s smile dimmed slightly when she realised that she had pushed too far, the once beaming smile turning apologetic. (He would feel bad if it were a regular day, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to care today. He could apologise later.) 

“Don’t worry boys, I won’t tell a single person that I saw you both here today. Your secret’s safe with me! I’ll talk to you later, Amamiya-kun~” with a jaunty wave and a twist on her heels, Ohya walked away, leaving the two of them in silence. 

“Do you know many people in journalism?” Akechi questioned, and Ren couldn’t help but wince. It wasn’t ideal that he now knew that Ren knew someone like Ohya, but it wasn’t like he could make the other boy forget the past five minutes. He shook his head and watched as Akechi began to untense, fiddling with the ends of his sweater before realising what he was doing and stopping entirely. 

“Sorry,” Ren murmured, “I didn’t know that she’d be here—” Akechi cut him off, his eyes glinting slightly with unveiled irritation. 

“—you have nothing to apologise for.” 

“—she won’t say anything. She might be a journalist, but she does keep her word,” he continued, acting as if Akechi had never cut him off in the first place, “Let’s enjoy the rest of the time that we have today, yeah? Don’t want those tickets to go to waste.” 

Akechi sighed before acquiescing to his silent request to move on from the tense moment, leading him around to the other exhibits and pointing out the sea creatures, as if the incident with Ohya had never happened. 

(Ren noticed that Akechi didn’t get close to him again for the duration of the tour, and while it was slightly upsetting—in the sense of having a friend retreat in on themselves, of course— Ren understood.)

At the end of their trip around the aquarium, Ren and Akechi visited the souvenir shop. He hadn’t intended on buying anything, but he took one look at a jellyfish plush and was instantly reminded of ~~how close he was to Akechi—~~

~~—the moment that they shared—~~

—how much fun that they had that day, and purchased it before promptly handing it to a stunned Akechi.

“Is this… for me?” Maroon coloured eyes stared back at him, looking suspiciously wet. The sight alone put Ren into a stunned silence, struggling to not give in to temptation to play with his bangs so he wouldn't have to keep looking at Akechi. The sight of Akechi crying felt odd to him and made him uncomfortable in ways that he didn’t expect. ~~He looked pretty, even when he was about to cry. Ren thought it was a little fucked up that he would like to see him cry again if it meant that he could see Akechi in that beautiful state.~~

He gave in and played with his bangs anyway; unable to find his voice, he gave Akechi a small nod, trying to beat down the rising heat in his cheeks. 

A hand took hold of his own and Ren found himself in a lonely corner of the shop, Akechi standing close to him. Neither made an attempt to pull their hand away from the other, and Ren was momentarily lost in the warmth that Akechi was giving him. Had he noticed that he wasn’t wearing his gloves, his own little barrier that protected him from the touch of the outside world? What did he think of the warmth of Ren’s hand? Was he just as lost in the feeling as Ren was? 

Their fingers twined together, and Akechi leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Ren’s.

(It was hard to tell visually since their faces were so close together, but Ren was almost as certain that Akechi’s face was just as red as his was.) 

“Thank you, Ren,” Akechi breathed, the warmwarmwarm air fanning against Ren’s lips. A thumb traced nonsensical shapes on the back of his palm and his lashes fluttered slightly, brushing against Akechi’s cheeks. Unbidden, he tilted his head up slightly, wondering what the other boy was going to do next. Was this simply a challenge for him, to see if Ren would trip over himself to ~~kiss~~ be close to him? 

(The thought of just being a source of Akechi’s entertainment hurt, but he pushed those thoughts away. Akechi isn’t that sort of person, he couldn’t be—the front that he put on said that he loved the attention, but the way that he acted around Ren suggested anything but. He wouldn’t do that to the one person he spends the most time with, would he?)

(But why would he care so much, anyways? Why _should_ he care about the detective that said that he would find and arrest the Phantom Thieves?)

Deflect deflect deflect—

“It was nothing, I just— just wanted to—” Ren shut his mouth, unwilling to sound more like a fool than he already was. The boy currently leaning against him breathed out a light laugh, and he couldn’t figure out if it were because he was laughing at himself or because Ren couldn't finish a single sentence with Akechi pressed up against him like this.

(But Akechi wasn’t the detective right now, and Ren wasn’t the thief. Right now, they were just Ren and Goro.)

 ~~Akechi~~ Goro sighed quietly, and it almost seemed as if he were going to lean in—

—but instead, he pulled away, squeezing Ren’s hand, once, twice. Ren’s face burned. 

“It’s getting late, Amamiya-kun,” ~~Goro~~ Akechi said to him, sotto voce, uncharacteristically soft even for the Ace Detective mask that he was once again donning.

“Yeah, I guess it is, huh?” ~~_I want to stay with you._~~ _I ~~want to be this close again.~~_ ~~_Please don’t let go of my hand._~~

Like a coward and nothing like Joker, Ren Amamiya too donned his mask once more, and they departed shortly after.

Later that night, Ren’s search history filled up with queries such as, ‘ _What does it mean if a boy holds your hand_ ’, ‘ _Shinagawa Aquarium date spot_ ’, ‘ _What does it mean if a friend takes you to a popular date spot_ ’. 

The final one? ‘ _Butterfly kisses_ ’. 

(When Ren woke up the next day, Futaba had left him a multitude of texts. One succinctly stated: _sounds like you’ve got it bad, lover boy._ He assumed—or rather, he knew, considering that the young girl was tech savvy and had only days earlier requested that they steal her heart— that she had looked at his history to keep tabs on him and spotted his ‘gay panic’. Futaba barely knew him, yet after they had accidentally spooked her in the infamous Sushi Incident she had teased him for who he hung out with—namely, Akechi. When she teasingly asked if it was because Ren _liked_ him, he might’ve deflected too hard because the next thing he knew, she was sending things like ‘ _so you like the dangerous ones, huh? Interesting_ q(≧▽≦q) _’_ and _‘denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, you know!_ (￣y▽,￣)╭ _’_. Ren knew that the socially awkward girl was trying, so he let her be, even if it made him flustered at times like now.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation for Arsène:
> 
> "Ah, mon petit voleur, l’inspecteur c’est ton trésor, oui? Comme c’est précieux!" — "Ah, my little thief, the detective is your treasure, yes? How precious!"


	2. The First Kiss Between Two Thieves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind from this point forward that there's intentional swapping between Ren/Joker! I promise I didn't make mistakes with names. ;)

## The First Kiss Between Two Thieves

October 31st, 2016

Ren shouldn’t be going through with the plan. He really, really shouldn’t. The thought of getting arrested again and having police officers around him and yelling and asking him question after question until he breaks and snaps and is forced to admit to something that he didn’t do—

He wished that it didn’t have to come to this. 

—but the Thieves were going to carry on as if everything were normal, as if Goro Akechi hadn’t blackmailed them into allowing him to join them in search of _finding justice_ on the 26th, as if Futaba never overheard Goro’s plan to kill him via the bug that she had installed on his phone just a few days earlier when they had visited the courthouse.

(Was Goro really planning on killing him? Would he feel any guilt if he went through with it? _Had_ he felt any semblance of guilt for killing Haru’s father and Futaba’s mother, or had he dissociated in order to protect himself? Had he tried to reason with himself, saying that this was all necessary for whatever his end goal was? Ren didn’t see a cold-blooded killer when he looked at the very same boy who had held his hand and gotten so close to him three months ago, looking as if he were going to cry because Ren had gotten him a gift.)

(But then again, Goro Akechi was a good actor. He knew just how to manipulate people into liking him with his Ace Detective façade, what to say and how to act to sway the masses into his favour. He couldn’t let his feelings bias him here.)

Ren had to act like it didn’t hurt to be betrayed like this, act like he wasn’t terrified of dying. He had to act as if his friends being so ready to throw him in the line of fire didn’t sting and make him paranoid, wondering if they actually ever gave a shit about him in the first place. 

He just had to actactact and put on another mask, put on a brave face. He wasn’t _Ren_ , high school delinquent on parole, he was _Joker_ , leader of the Phantom Thieves, with the world’s eyes on him. Joker didn’t have time to be afraid, he had a team to keep safe and a Treasure to steal. 

Joker put ~~the traitor~~ ~~the Ace Detective~~ Crow in the frontlines beside him, moving Skull to the reserve, who thankfully listened to his orders with little complaint. Nobody dared to argue with him, knowing very well that everything was at stake this time. Sure, they had some bad situations before, but Ren going back to prison was the least of his worries this time around; he could very well be dead by the end of this month, and he wondered distantly if he would be forgotten before the new year if he _did_ die.

(Ren might be coping with this badly. Maybe. Just a bit.) 

Crow was surprisingly strong for someone who had supposedly only had awoken to his persona a few weeks ago, and Joker wondered when he had _really_ had the awakening. Crow was too confident in the Metaverse, no matter how much he tried to downplay it. 

(Was he like Joker? Was he a Wild Card? Ren certainly thought that he was special enough to be, and Joker thought the same, but Joker had his own reservations—there was just _something_ about him that was different, something that neither of them could put their finger on...) 

Joker craved the moments where Crow’s true personality shone through, watching him tear through Shadows when he thought he could pass it off as beginner’s luck, a dark gleam in his eyes as he laughed. (He was beautiful in every sense of the word. Ren would never say that though, too afraid to rock the boat with feelings that complicate things. But Joker can separate those feelings from his goals and he isn’t afraid to admit them.) 

“Crow, to your left!” he barked, weaving through the others (the teammates who would do _nothing_ for Crow because in their eyes he was a _traitor_ —and maybe they were correct, but they were supposed to be working together and they were doing a rather poor job), summoning Atropos and casting Mazionga before the Rangda of the group could hit Crow with a Bless attack, calling for an All-Out Attack once all of the Shadows were downed. The other thief only gave him an acknowledging nod afterwards, taking on that surprised look that Ren had seen in Goro three months ago. Even with his mask obscuring most of his face, Crow was a treasure to see. 

He and Joker were like two sides of the same coin, though the lines were blurred. Joker had never claimed to be doing the morally white thing unlike Ren (naïve, caring Ren, who was only wanting to do the right thing; Joker wanted to do the right thing too, of course, but he was more incensed with how the world treated him, looking down on him as if he were the scum of the earth). He knew that Crow was the same, every theatrical flourish meant to leave the people on the sidelines astounded, just as he did when in the Metaverse. What they were— _who_ they were— didn’t matter in that world, they could let go of the masks that they had to put up for others and be themselves here. 

(Though for Crow, it was quite different. He still couldn’t be himself here, not just yet—Joker wanted to be there for the moment when he unmasked himself for all to see. He knew it would be absolutely dangerous and breathtaking, suiting for someone who struck fear in the Shadows of the Metaverse.) 

Looking at his tiring teammates, Joker fiddled with his gloves as he pondered on what they should do for the time being. He wanted to get through this Palace as soon as possible (something that his fellow Thieves had often bemoaned), but he also didn’t want to put them at risk. The Shadows in Sae’s Palace were a bit stronger than they were currently and Joker knew that it would be best if they stopped for the day, planning on taking the Thieves to Mementos within the next few days. They had requests from the PhanSite to catch up on anyways, so it would be killing two birds with one stone.

“We’re going to a safe room,” he ordered, leaving no room for argument. Wordlessly, they all followed, trusting Joker to lead them to the safe room safely with little run-ins with Shadows. He was competent to do that, he supposed, but he also wanted to work on their teamwork with Crow, so...—

“—Show me your true form!”

(He felt the glares of his team on his back and couldn’t help but smirk. They could consider it as punishment for not following the terms that they had agreed on before entering the Palace. They needed the practice anyways.)

Joker tore the mask off of the Shadow, revealing itself to be an Ose. Beside him, Crow cleared his throat, tilting his head slightly. 

“Shall I take care of it, Joker?” His rival nearly purred, and Joker wondered if this was another one of their rounds of mental chess—what was Crow trying to prove, here? Was he flirting to take him off guard? (In that case, bring it on Crow, because Joker can _certainly_ return the favour.) Was it simply because he wanted to get this fight over with and go home? Or did he want to once again try to prove to Joker that he is superior to his teammates? 

Regardless of his intentions, it didn’t matter. Crow could take the Ose down easily, and they both knew that.

“No,” Joker murmured, speaking only loud enough for the two of them to hear. “Stand back, they need this practice.” Backing away, he spoke louder this time, looking at Skull and Queen. “Skull, Queen, with me. Crow, Fox, go on standby.”

Skull and Queen took their places in the frontlines, looking at him for what to do. Joker shook his head at him, silently telling them that they were to fight on their own accord without his input, earning him incredulous looks. Panther pursed her lips before calling upon Hecate and casting Matarunda, becoming the designated buffer of the group. Joker didn’t do anything except switch personas, content to let his Thieves figure out how to fight the Ose themselves. Skull summoned Seiten Taisei as Queen called upon Anat, both working together with Ziodyne and Freidyne to cause an explosion, the grounds of the casino rumbling as a result and downing the Ose easily after another round.

Joker could feel Crow’s eyes on him; what was the other thinking? (What did he think of Joker, choosing to do nothing and let his team fight without him even though they were tiring? Did he see him as a bad leader? A harsh one? Or a realistic one, only wanting his team to grow stronger so they wouldn’t die in the Metaverse?) He could sense the growing ire of the rest of the team as they made their way to the safe room, hearing many of their grumbled mutinous complaints. He knew that they were upset with him for the stunt that he had pulled and he knew that Ren would get a mouthful about it later. The Thieves never said anything against Joker, but as soon as they were outside the Metaverse, they took it up with Ren; Ren was more amiable, more considerate of others’ feelings. Joker was not. 

Pushing open the door to the safe room, Joker held it open, ushering the Thieves inside the room. All went in except Crow, who began to slow his steps and lingered at the doorway.

“Can we talk, Joker?”

Glancing into the safe room, Joker closed the door quietly, leaving the two of them standing outside of the safe room. Alone. (Ren would be somewhat nervous, Joker was sure, standing alone with his to-be murderer, but Joker felt none of that apprehension. Crow was one of his own, traitor or not.)

“What do you need, Crow?” Gunmetal grey peered into the maroon behind the mask, Joker tilting his head slightly. He couldn’t ever get a good read on Crow, even when he was Goro Akechi. Both he and Crow liked to look underneath the surface—Joker and Ren just liked to state things plain and simple. Crow looked down, breaking eye contact, fiddling with his gloves for a moment, as if he were gathering up hidden courage, before looking back at Joker, directly in the eyes. 

“What was your reason for putting me in reserve?” Joker tsked, narrowing his eyes. He knew that Crow understood why he was put on reserve for that fight—hell, Joker _told_ him why. He stared at Crow for a few moments longer before smirking, leaning forward.

“Oh _honey_ ,” he murmured with faux sweetness, “if you really wanted to have me all to yourself, all you had to do was _ask_.” Joker could hear Crow’s breath hitch as he slowly slid his hand up the other thief’s arm, the red of his glove bringing a lovely shade of colour to Crow’s face. His treasured thief (his trésor, the one who had stole his heart, beating Joker at his own game) didn’t put up any fight as Joker unmasked him, his only response a small pout (one that he wanted to kiss away and make Crow feel the same burning that Joker felt inside of himself when he looked at him) and pinkening cheeks.

Glee shot through him, feeling as if he had been electrocuted. _Oh, this is good_. His smirk widened as he pressed his forehead against Crow’s, a mere mockery of what had happened between Goro and Ren months ago, the air a bit heavier than it was before. 

He leaned in, so close he could almost touch the other’s lips with his own—

—and turned Crow’s head, kissing his cheek. 

_What is your next move, Crow?_

The newcomer of the group slumped against the door, looking somewhat overwhelmed as if he didn’t know what to do or how to respond, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to speak for once. Joker gave him space as he backed away, sending him a coy wink before gently pushing him to the side and opening the door, sweeping his hand out in a grand gesture. 

“After you, _Crow_ ,” he purred. 

He wisely ignored Oracle’s pitying look.

(Nothing could be done now, nothing at all, so he might as well live it up while he still can.)


	3. The First Kiss Between Two Rivals

## The First Kiss Between Two Rivals

November 16th, 2016

The rain from earlier that day made the day a rather dreary one, the cold making others prefer to stay inside. This was Ren’s favourite time; he could be alone and just wander around Tokyo, lost in his own thoughts, and nobody would stop him to ask for something because nobody wanted to be out. 

Well, everybody except for one. 

Goro had texted him earlier, asking him to come to Penguin Sniper for a few rounds of billiards, and Ren being Ren (Ren, who was in no shape or form attracted to Goro Akechi, also was a liar to both himself and everyone else) accepted, eager to show Goro the trickshots that he had practiced with the others. He was also hoping that he could beat Goro today, wanting to see him go all out as he had promised Ren months earlier. 

(He blocked out the thoughts of how this would likely be one of the last times he would ever see Goro like this, knowing that if he broke down now then he would lose all of his resolve to meet with him in the first place. It’s hard knowing that someone you’re close to has been actively plotting to kill you for who knows how long, knowing that in just four days they are planning to put a bullet through your head—)

Ren took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to ground himself before continuing to walk to Penguin Sniper. (He wished that he had Joker’s courage. He wished that he was able to act confident and cocky in front of Goro and not worry about the consequences—)

 _J'ai entièrement confiance en toi, mon petit voleur. Tu seras bien!_ Arsène encouraged, the feeling of his feathered wings brushing against Ren’s shoulder offering him some comfort. But he didn’t have that confidence in himself, that was all _Joker_. He couldn’t be Joker here in the real world, he had to be meek Ren Amamiya, the boy who had to keep his head down and not cause trouble lest he get arrested again. Joker… Joker could be whoever he wanted to be; he could be the calm eye of the storm or the raging fires that burns everything to ash and nobody would expect anything else of him because he was _Joker_. The Wild Card, their ace in the hole.

~~(Now that Goro had seen Joker, does he like him more than Ren, too?)~~

At the stairs of Penguin Sniper, Ren took another moment to gather himself, putting behind all of his thoughts and worries. He was here to enjoy his time with Goro and have fun, that was all. There would be no stress involved. 

Goro gave him a beaming smile (albeit a bit strained, if anything) when he walked in and he could feel himself start to relax. Everything would be fine, Ren had this. 

The clinking of the balls hitting one another and hitting the edges of the pool table accompanied their smalltalk, the rain and cold having kept most people away. Jazz music played in the background, and it almost was as if this day were just made for the two of them. 

It was...nice. 

Really nice. 

Ren hit another striped ball into the pocket, one more step closer to victory. He and Goro were head to head, Goro having sunk only one ball less than he. He missed his next hit, the angle a bit too steep, the ball bouncing off of the side. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Goro leaned down, bending over the table to take aim in such a way that Ren felt as if he really _shouldn’t_ be looking (ohgodohgodohgoddeflECTDEFLECTDEFLECT—), making his throat feel tight. Ren struggled to swallow and nearly didn’t notice Goro taking his own shot, but the other teen clearing his throat caught his attention.

“Are you alright, Ren?” Goro sounded concerned, not-so-subtly eyeing his face.

What was he supposed to say? _Sorry, I was too caught up staring at your—_

(Nope. Try again.)

_You know, Goro, your technique is rather—_

(Really, Amamiya? Get a hold of yourself!)

_Sorry, I just got—_

“Thirsty,” he mumbled, and immediately turned red, fiddling with his hair and glasses in a noble attempt to not look at Goro out of shame. Ren heard Goro laugh underneath his breath, and he could feel himself almost physically curl in on himself, feeling immensely uncomfortable with the sheer amounts of embarrassment that he was feeling. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to be Joker right now…

A gloved hand entered his sight, accompanied by a bottle of water. Had Goro…? 

“Here. I can’t have my rival at anything less than his best when facing me, that would just be disappointing.”

“A-Ah, for me?” Ren asked dumbly, stunned. _Yes, for you, you absolute moron, he’s not talking to the lady two tables down—_

(He’d much rather be at home now, please and thank you— how much more embarrassing can today get?) 

“Yes,” Goro said, apparently either not minding his stupidity or just laughing it up inside his head, “this is for you. Who else would I call my rival?” 

_Who else would I call my rival?_

Is he turning red again? Ren thinks that he’s turning red again—

With a mumbled thanks, Ren took the bottle of water and opened it, taking a quick drink before setting it aside, gripping the cue and taking a deep breath, centering himself. He ignored the feeling of eyes on him as he leaned forward slightly to take aim, hitting the ball with a bit more force than what was necessary to pocket it.

A miss. 

The eyes were no longer on him as Goro took his turn. Why would Goro be looking at him anyways? (Like many times before, Ren ignored Arsène’s laughter in response to his thoughts. It was better for his sanity that way.) 

After a few minutes, the two of them were almost through with their game, Goro with two balls left and Ren with one, though Ren’s was in the better position to be pocketed. Taking in the position of the cue ball, Ren moved around the table, trying to get a better angle to hit the ball from. He typically wasn’t the competitive type, but Goro was his self-proclaimed _rival_ , and the two of them had agreed to go all out this time. It really did seem that they were putting their all into the game (or at least, Ren was, since Goro was playing with his right hand instead of his left).

He missed.

“Ren,” Goro started, seemingly out of the blue, “don’t you think billiards is a fascinating game? You can’t simply strike the ball you’re aiming for. You have to be indirect, but precise, to land it in the pocket…” Tilting his head, Ren met Goro’s eyes. He had a feeling that they really weren’t talking about billiards anymore; they were talking about something much deeper. (He had to appreciate that about Goro. He always made Ren _think_ in a way that nobody has had before.) 

“It’s almost like how the Phantom Thieves change hearts, isn’t it? It’s almost like—”

“—the perfect crime, yes,” Goro finished, giving him a slight smile, bending over the pool table to take aim, “—you never cease to astound me, Ren. Yes, what the Phantom Thieves do sounds like the hypothetical perfect crime. They eliminate their targets without ever directly connecting themselves to it.” The glimmer in his eyes dimmed, and he looked at Ren out of his peripherals, face looking rather grim. “Everything happening around us, every little inconsequential event, may simply be one ball striking another.” Goro took his shot, the cue ball hitting the wall of the table before rebounding, moving one of his balls slightly.

A miss. 

“—But there’s no guarantee that the ball can be precisely controlled. And despite the player’s best intentions, the ball may strike many unrelated obstacles in its path.” 

_Oh._ They weren’t just talking about the Phantom Thieves anymore, they were talking about Goro himself. 

(Is this Goro’s cry for help? How long has he been dropping hints, leaving breadcrumbs for others to pick up, only to receive nothing? How long has he dropped these hints for Ren to notice, only for him to fail Goro?) 

“Even then, Ren, do you still intend to play this game?” Ren stood still, silent for a few moments as he worried at his lip, knowing that a lot rested on how he responded; if he answered incorrectly, would Goro lose all faith in him? (Did he already know that the Thieves had made a plan that was meant to deceive him? Did he already know about the bug in his phone?)

“I intend to still play this game,” Ren began carefully, noting how Goro looked both conflicted and disappointed by his answer, “—but the rules never said that I had to do it alone, right? I have you...a-and the others.” Angling himself, he carefully knocked the cue ball against the table, watching it rebound and knock into the ball Goro had hit, sending it into his last ball and pocketing it. 

“It...It looks like you have won, Ren,” Goro said, and while he looked pleased, something about his smile was bittersweet, as if he had eaten something sweet only to get a bitter aftertaste. “Impressive. Shall we go outside to cool down? That was a rather heated match after all, haha.” Ren hated that fake laugh. (He preferred the one that he heard when they went to the aquarium, or the one that Joker was able to hear from Crow in the Metaverse. Those laughs spoke of someone who was in his comfort zone, someone who enjoyed what they were doing. This laugh was plastic, chipped at the edges, and he was waiting for it to finally shatter one day.)

(Ren would like to hear Goro laugh his real laughs everyday without need of the fake one, someday. He just hoped that he’d live that long.)

Goro led Ren outside, leaning against the building. The rain was still going strong, but the peaceful atmosphere that used to be present was no longer there. It was heavier now, clogging Ren’s throat with anxiety. Even still, Goro looked more alive, as if he were the thief Crow. (He was beautiful, Ren couldn’t deny that now.) 

“I must say, I’m impressed. When I first played with you, you were a mere beginner at billiards, and now you’ve beaten me with my handicap. You’ve improved so much over the last few months… I’m almost envious,” Goro said, his voice soft enough to be almost drowned out by the pouring rain, forcing Ren closer to him. Their shoulders nearly touched but Goro didn’t seem to notice, lolling his head to the side almost lazily, looking at Ren through hooded eyes. 

“I couldn’t let myself lose to you,” He could hear himself say, “I promised to do my best when put up against you.”

(Their pinkies were nearly touching again. It reminded him of gentle blue lighting, the feeling of the other against him, the warmth of his hand… ~~He wanted it again.~~ ) 

“We’re similar, you and I,” Goro murmured, leaning closer to Ren, “We’re both victims of unjust adults… and now, we both have the will and power to rise up against them. Even still, we do it in different ways—I’m doing so as a detective, and you’re acting as a phantom thief. We couldn’t be more different in ideologies.” Despite his words, the way he spoke felt as if he were fond of this fact, as if the differences fascinated him just as much as the similarities did, perhaps even moreso. Ren wanted to back away, get space between himself and Goro before he did something stupid, but he couldn’t find it in himself to move away. He...liked being close to Goro like this. 

“You’re one of us now,” he began, but Goro cut him off, shaking his head.

“That may be the case for now, but soon it will come to an end, and things will be back to the way they were before, Ren,” the brunet reminded, as if Ren needed the reminder that he could possibly be dead before the week was over. His chest ached; how did things turn out this way, to the point of no return? Why did Goro have to do this? Why _him_? “Why don’t you join me instead? All you would have to do is abandon the teammates that you have now.”

He wasn’t looking at Ren anymore, gazing at the streets with detached interest. Ren could feel the weight of his words bearing down on the both of them. He swallowed.

“You know I can’t do that, Goro,” Ren replied, voice strained, “I can’t abandon them, not now. But I don’t have to be your teammate to support you; we’re rivals after all, right?” He knew that Goro must feel like he’s cornered if he’s reaching out to Ren; Goro was prideful, unwilling to take a knee to others even if it meant that he would suffer as a result. (He knew Goro had to have a plan if he were causing the mental shutdowns, a reason as to _why_ he was taking orders from someone. That wasn’t who Goro was— Goro was someone who was better off left undisturbed, allowed to flourish whenever he deemed it necessary, his own willpower and drive to succeed being the very thing that fueled him. Was Goro like this as a child too, or was he different back then, when his mother was still alive? Ren wished that he knew the younger Goro, wished that he could have pulled him away from whoever had wronged him before they had gotten their hands on him and changed him into someone that he never truly wanted to be. He wished that the system was kinder to people like Goro, people who had seen nothing but the awfulness of the world and now only expected it from anyone and anything, living their lives alone and in paranoia.)

(This wasn’t the first time that Ren had thought about this.)

A sigh broke him out of his thoughts, and Ren watched as Goro’s eyes flickered with something unknown, the look that he gave Ren being one of dejection. 

“I understand. After all, we all have our own parts that we must play, our roles being something that we cannot just easily cast aside,” the other said, his voice quiet yet strong, “Regardless, I hope that you find me of use during our mission.” The two stood in silence for a few moments, Goro suddenly straightening his posture as if he remembered that he was the Ace Detective and had an image to uphold. Ren thought back on how the day had gone and felt slightly disappointed; while he had won at their game of billiards for once, it felt more like a Pyrrhic victory, the fun afternoon turning into something that was much more serious than expected. A gloved hand touched his arm, jerking his attention to Goro who pulled back, giving him a slightly apologetic look. 

“If you could indulge me just this once, I would like to do something else with you today. I did promise to go all out on you if you beat me while I was playing with my right hand, and I know just the thing.” Ren gave him a simple nod, watching as Goro pulled his phone out of his pocket.

 _Oh, he wants to go to Mementos_ , he realised, a bit late on the uptake. The world warped around them before taking form of the dark and macabre depths of the collective consciousness, their outfits being replaced with their Thieves’ outfits and masks. Closing his eyes, he exhaled, opening his eyes and taking in the familiar feeling of the mask settling on his face. Arséne’s presence was stronger here, more comforting, urging him to take lead and take what is _his_.

Joker looked at Crow, who stared back at him with eyes that were no longer soft, but instead were hardened with a desire to prove his worth. 

“Once again, I’m pleased that you want to be alone with me so badly, darling,” Joker cooed, narrowing his eyes behind his mask as Crow reached behind him, pulling out a gun. “—but I do believe you should work on your speaking skills if you think holding a gun to my head is romantic.” His thief looked flustered for a moment, as if he weren’t expecting Joker to flirt with him, but really he should know better by now. Joker was different from Ren, just as Crow was different from Goro. 

(Here, they could be wild, they could wreak havoc, doing and acting how they were meant to act before society told them that they could not. Joker was more _Ren Amamiya_ than Ren Amamiya ever was. Here, he was _alive_.)

“I told you that I would go serious against you if you won against me using my right hand,” Crow said boldly, acting as if Joker had never thrown him off balance in the first place. _How cute._ “At first, I merely intended for us to play billiards, but knowing now that we have the same powers, that wouldn’t suffice. No, that wouldn’t suffice at all.” The laugh that Crow let out was different from any of his other laughs that Joker and Ren had heard, and Joker found himself nearly enthralled with it. It was manic almost, tinged with a dry bitterness that almost made him shiver in anticipation. “Everything about you exceeded my expectations of you… your perceptiveness that noticed my dominant hand, your quick wittedness, and most of all, your ability to quickly grow adapted to anything that comes your way... In conclusion, I want to compete against you in a serious manner.”

Joker and Ren may be different, just as Goro and Crow were different, but Joker and Crow were alike in many different ways. ( _This match would be exciting._ Someone was going up against him and could actually offer a challenge for once, being his _equal_.) Joker rolled his neck, feeling it crack as he flexed his hands, feeling his blood begin to thrum in excitement and anticipation. 

_This_ is what he wanted to see from Crow. He wanted to see Crow in all of his beautiful glory as he succumbed to his baser instincts, unafraid to hold back. Joker liked danger—he _lived_ for it. Every moment in the Metaverse was just another moment of him proving that he was able to survive, proving that he had what it took to live in the cruel world that rejected him (rejected _Ren_ ). If he could walk in the shadows, taking the hearts of those who harmed others—

—then he would prove that he was more just, thief or not. 

“Give me your best shot, Go~ro-kun~” he taunted, feeling his smirk widen to something more feral, more unhinged than he would usually allow himself when around his team. Crow mirrored his look, his smile promising Joker a good fight, the two thieves finding their equal in the other.

(Crow and Goro were special. They _always_ were, always will be.) 

“You won’t be able to take me down unless you intend to kill. Show me your true potential, Joker!” Crow threw out an arm, touching his mask as he summoned Robin Hood, his eyes gleaming with maniacal glee. Wordlessly, Joker summoned Anubis, rendering nearly all of Robin Hood’s attacks useless against him, earning him a dirty look from Crow. 

“Of course he would,” he could hear the other grumble, a chuckle slipping out from him before he could stop it. “Don’t get cocky, Joker. Robin, Megidola!” Joker was barely able to dodge the attack in time, the tail of his coat smoldering slightly from the heat. He could work with this, though; Crow would burn out soon enough, all he would have to do is play the waiting game and make sure to avoid as many attacks as he could. The more he avoided the attacks, the angrier Crow got, eventually getting tired of watching Joker dance around his attacks. Crow sprang forward, his sword clashing with Joker’s dagger. 

“Temper, temper,” Joker tsked, gleefully laughing when Crow snarled in return, pressing more of his weight against Joker in response. “You know, to see you looking at me with so much passion like this, it feels almost romantic. Don’t you agree, _trésor_?”

“Shut up! C-Can’t you be serious for once?!” Crow hissed, faltering for a moment, Joker clearly throwing him off once more. Joker took his chance to disarm the other, pulling him close and pressing his blade against the other’s neck.

“I’m _always_ serious,” he murmured, leaning to speak in Crow’s ear, feeling him tremble underneath Joker’s touch, “I believe this is my win.” Crow conceded, going slack in his arms, and Joker carefully moved his knife away from Crow’s neck. 

“You are correct,” Crow affirmed, turning his head slightly so he could look at Joker, “I would’ve liked to test my limits, but if we go any further than this, then neither of us will be satisfied.” Slipping out of Joker’s arms, Crow walked past him, towards the entrance of Mementos. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”

(Normally he wouldn’t listen to the orders of others like Ren would, but since it was Crow…) 

Joker followed him out, the world warping around them once more. When his vision settled, they were alone in an alleyway, raindrops hitting his forehead. 

“You know, I think I’m glad to have you as an ally. Your strength is very reassuring to have. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that I’m relying on you,” Goro told him, traces of Crow still in his gaze. Joker preened at the compliments, knowing that Crow nor Goro would give empty praises to _him_ of all people. He might give them to others, but he would never give them to Joker and Ren. (If anything, that was what made Goro Akechi’s relationship with Ren Amamiya special; the two were _honest_ with each other when all they did with others was lie and tell half-truths.) 

“Likewise,” Joker told him, because it was true. Goro’s strength, both inside and outside of the Metaverse, was reassuring to have. Crow’s prowess in battle along with his analytical nature proved to be useful, and Goro being Ren’s one true confidant made life immensely easier. 

“However, I can’t help but wonder if you would be confident that you’d win if we had gone even further,” Goro added, giving him a sly smile that spoke of things that he had yet to tell Joker (yet to tell _Ren_ ). His eyes narrowed and he gave a short huff of laughter, daring Goro to challenge him again. 

“I wouldn’t be allowed to lose to you,” he shot back, watching Goro shake his head with a somewhat fond smile. 

“I expected that answer from you.” Stepping forward, Goro stopped beside him, tilting his head closer to Joker’s, a near imitation of what had happened in the Metaverse just minutes ago. “To be perfectly honest, I hate you, Ren.”

Oh? Joker shifted his weight to his other leg, interested in what Goro had to say to him.

“I hate you,” Goro reiterated, all traces of fondness gone from his face, “I hate how you don’t crumble underneath the pressure from the situation that you’re in… how you continue to outdo me, in every way... how _different_ you are from me… All of it gets on my nerves. You… You’re the last person I’d want to lose to.”

“You don’t hate _me_ , though,” he rebutted, “You just don’t like that I’ve taken you off guard. You expected me to be something entirely different; maybe you expected me to be stupid, reckless, unable to keep up with anything you threw at me... but I’ve impressed you, and you don’t know how that makes you feel.” Joker smiled at him, feeling fondness and admiration seep into his gaze. He admired how Goro’s cheeks reddened under his stare, still running off of the high from the battle earlier. “You’re so stubborn.”

Goro laughed in response to his last statement. “I didn’t think that it would come this far,” he admitted, “But for now, I’ll concede. This win goes to you, but I will win next time.” As if putting an end to the conversation, Goro began to walk off, but stopped just before exiting the alleyway, turning back to him.

“ _This_ ,” he said, taking off his right glove and quickly throwing it at Joker, “will prove it. In the west, there is a custom where you throw your glove at your opponent when arranging a duel. If the opponent takes the glove, then the duel has been set.” Joker looked down at the glove, squeezing it thoughtfully. He was almost certain Goro had read about it in books and the fact that he had thrown his glove at Joker was endearing on its own. 

However, if they were speaking about customs…

“You know, dear prince, maidens used to give knights a favour as tokens of gratitude, courtship, and as a promise to come back to them,” he teased, walking towards Goro, “You may not be a maiden, per se, but I do believe that this glove also counts as one of those, yeah?” 

Gingerly, Joker bowed in front of Goro, taking his bare hand into his own and pressing a gentle kiss against Goro’s knuckles. 

“I’ll be waiting eagerly for our _duel_ , my prince,” Joker purred, ignoring Goro’s flustered sputtering as he walked away from him and to the station.

(Once he got back home to LeBlanc, Ren took one look at the glove, realised what Joker had done, and promptly screamed into his pillow until his voice gave out. Morgana was not pleased.)

(Ren kept the glove anyways, it situated safely underneath his pillow.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation for Arsène:  
> "J'ai entièrement confiance en toi, mon petit voleur. Tu seras bien!" - "I have complete confidence in you, my little thief. You'll be fine!"


	4. The First Last Kiss

## The First Last Kiss

December 10th, 2016

It was harder than one would think to fake your own death, Ren had found out. 

(It was harder to act like everything was fine when you had been beaten and drugged, your friends brushing off what had happened to you and never asking if you were okay because they “put themselves on the line too”. Ren didn’t know how many times he had woke up in a cold sweat, sheets soaked through with it, thinking that he was still back there in that solitary room with that desk and chair and the cops beatingbeatingbeating him, calling him a murderer but he’s notnotnotnot—)

It had hurt knowing that Goro had still walked into that interrogation room and shot what he thought was Ren, Sae confirming that he had ran into her before she had left the building to start her car. (Ren wondered if Goro struggled with it, standing in front of the cognitive Ren with a gun in his hand. He wondered if he cried after shooting that Ren, regretting it immediately afterwards. Was it hard for him to come to terms with the fact that Ren was dead to him?)

(Why did he still care?) 

A watery sigh passed through his trembling lips, Ren shakily swiping at his eyes in a futile attempt to wipe away the tears that were clouding his vision. He ignored Morgana’s questioning look, pushing the cat away from him. He needed some space, but as a legally dead man, he really had nowhere to go. There was only so much that he could do to hide himself, and so many times that he could get away with going out with only a hoodie to cover his face and hair. Ren didn’t want to tempt fate more than he already had at this point. 

“I’m going to call the rest of the Thieves,” Ren told Morgana quietly, deciding that if he wanted to do something, it might as well be something useful. They nearly had the route to Prime Minister candidate Masayoshi Shido’s Treasure secure, Ren finding himself getting more confused as they got closer to their goal. Why was Goro working for this man? Goro essentially stood for everything that Shido stood against, so why was he—

Why did he—

(Was it worth it, in the end? Was it worth it for Goro to kill Ren for the man who had ruined Ren’s life?)

Did he hold something over Goro and force him to become something that he was not? 

“The route to the Treasure is almost secure, I’m sure we can secure it today Joker!” He could hear Morgana chirp as he sent out the message to the group chat, almost immediately receiving several affirmation texts.

(The Thieves were eager to make that man pay, but nobody had ever asked if he was okay, other than Sojiro. The man had come in early one morning after Ren had had a particularly bad nightmare, offering him coffee and breakfast while asking if he was okay. Ren had broken down and Sojiro kept him at LeBlanc for the day, telling the others that he had the flu. Nobody questioned it.) 

Ren fiddled with the pieces of metal on his workbench, waiting for the others to arrive, saying nothing. If he said nothing, then he wouldn’t really have to think, to analyse every little thing that he says to the others. 

(He didn’t have to do this with Goro, at least, not really. He just over thought everything because he didn’t want to ~~make him aware of his feelings toward him scare him away~~ lose him as a friend.)

(His chest hurt, and he wished that things were easier when it concerned the two of them. It wasn’t fair.) 

Futaba had come within minutes, and sensing Ren’s need to silence, said nothing and instead fiddled with her laptop. After 30 minutes, Ann had come, followed by Yusuke and Ryuji slowly trickling in a few minutes afterward. Makoto and Haru were the last ones to arrive, having brought drinks and snacks with them. Ren didn’t touch his things, choosing instead to just watch the others eat and talk for a bit before standing up, calling attention to himself before beginning the meeting. 

“Our goal for today is to get the last letter of introduction and secure the Treasure,” he said simply, feeling himself grow more drained as he spoke. Ever since the _Incident That Shall Not Be Named_ , Ren found himself more withdrawn, more quiet than usual and with a smaller appetite. (Fearing the worst, he had checked the MetaNav a few days after to see if he had a Palace of his own, but nothing had come out of his search.) 

Noticing Ren’s lacklustre speech, Morgana took it up himself to be the hype man of the group, hopping up onto the table and speaking for him. (The cat had been Ren’s lifeline since he had gotten back and Ren honestly didn’t know what he had done to deserve him. Maybe the cat that-wasn’t-really-a-cat hadn’t asked at first if he was alright, but he was the only one that Ren could talk to anymore without feeling ill, aside from Sojiro. The two of them were the people closest to Ren other than Goro.)

( ~~GoroGoroGoroGoroGoro.~~ He wanted to cry again. But he was the leader, he was _Joker_ , he couldn’t cry.)

“This is it, guys! We’re almost at the end, we can do this, easy!” Cheers from the others followed Morgana’s pep talk, and Ren could almost physically feel the determination come off of his friends in waves. 

(Sometimes, he wondered if he had been the right choice as leader. Sure, he had been the first to awaken his persona—other than Morgana, who couldn’t remember when he had awakened Zorro, but he felt as if there was a better choice. Maybe he should’ve passed the mantle onto Makoto when she had joined; she was in charge of their strategies, so why not give it to her now?)

(There really wasn’t a point in Joker being there, really. Queen had practically usurped him of the leader position in her first day of being with them, strong-arming her way into the position almost immediately.)

Ren took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. There was no point in being insecure now, this was their last heist. Soon enough, Joker and Queen and the Phantom Thieves would be no more, leaving behind only Ren Amaymiya and his friends. He just had to get through this last heist, and then things would be over with. (But Ren knew that things would never _truly_ be over with; even after the Thieves are gone, people would still remember what they had done and how their leader supposedly committed suicide whilst in police custody.)

(And truthfully, he didn’t want things to be over with, either; he had no idea what he was going to do, considering that he was _legally dead_ , and the idea of having to go back home when his parole was over was anxiety-inducing.)

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice coming out stronger than he was feeling at the current moment. Grabbing his jacket, he flipped the hood up, putting on Joker’s mask.

(Nobody needed Ren Amamiya right now—they only wanted and needed Joker, so Joker he would be.)

Joker stepped onto the train with the others, remaining silent for the entire ride to the Diet Building. There was no reason to speak, so why should he? He ignored the uneasy looks that the others gave him. November 20th had taken its toll on Ren Amamiya and Joker alike, but it affected them in different ways; whilst Ren was left scared and sad and feeling upset that his friends had thrown him under the bus, Joker was _furious_. Crow’s betrayal was something that both Joker and Ren knew of beforehand, but Ren was left dealing with the repercussions while Joker had carefully put it all behind him, focusing on the bigger issue—his supposed teammates had thrown him in the line of fire and were _proud_ of their sloppy plan that could have killed Ren if _anything_ had gone wrong.

Joker remained silent, even as the world around them warped into the Cruiser of Pride. The sight of it made him feel sick; to think that someone like Shido was going to be the next Prime Minister, after everything that he had done… 

(The fact that Shido was the man that essentially sent Ren packing and on his way to Tokyo only made this sweeter and Joker couldn’t wait to see the bastard grovel on his knees and beg for forgiveness—)  
  
Okay, so perhaps it was more personal than Joker had let the others know, but this was something that Joker _needed_ to do. And if he got rid of an adult who was more of a criminal than he ever was, well, that was a bonus. 

“Alright, let’s go,” he said gruffly, not looking at any of the Thieves as he walked through the entrance, heading to the side of the cruiser. They had a job to do. Nothing else mattered. (Ren’s feelings didn’t matter. Joker’s feelings didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except their plan to retrieve the last letter of introduction from the Cleaner and securing the route to the Treasure.)

Joker weaved his way through the cognitive crowds, taking care to avoid the Shadows patrolling the cruiser. They needed to save their energy for the fight, if any of the other letter holders were any indication. All of them feared the Cleaner to some degree (he had to hold back a derisive scoff when the others were pondering on what _Cleaner_ meant; had they forgotten that hitmen and the yakuza existed, or did they ever so conveniently forget about how Goro had been ordered to kill Ren?).

The only area that they hadn’t been in was the engine room, the only way in being a vent. Ignoring the complaints about the smell from Skull, Joker kicked the covering a few times with force, the covering falling to the ground with a loud _clang_. It was inconsequential, however, seeing as the Cleaner had encountered them several times on the ship already. He knew that they were there, there was no reason to hide that they were coming for him. Joker hushed the other thieves, slipping inside the vent and steadily making his way to the engine room, dropping down in front of the Cleaner. 

The Cleaner was an older man, likely around 45-50 years old, with a fierce look on his face that reminded Joker of the Hanged Man ( _Iwai Munehisa_ , Ren reminded him, _he’s a person too_ ). When he looked at the Cleaner, he got a nasty look from him in return. 

“Man, you kids _again_ ? Is the hit on me really that big?” Joker swallowed back a snarl as the cognition threw off his shirt, revealing the ink on his skin. _Of course. Yakuza._ He could hear the other thieves’ shocked gasps from behind him, and he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. Did they really not expect this? 

(Had they forgotten that they essentially forced Ren to work with an ex-yakuza member so he could get them armour and weapons for the Metaverse? Had they forgotten how intimidated Ren had been before he forced himself to get over it and make a deal with the man? _Had they forgotten how Ren had gotten involved with yakuza affairs, putting himself at risk, all for them?_ ) 

“We need your letter of introduction,” he said cooly, “We’re willing to make a deal if that’ll make you more agreeable.” Joker could feel the eyes of the others on him, a sly smirk growing on his face as he imagined their gaping mouths. Ren might have been afraid of the Hanged Man and those like him, but Joker embraced it. Why be scared about someone who you could easily walk circles around in logic? The cognition in front of him barked a sharp laugh, cold eyes roaming across the group before settling on Joker. (As if there were any other threats in this group...the only one who could match him was already named as a traitor to the group.) 

“What Clan are you from, kid? You’ve got some balls, coming in here and asking me for the letter of introduction as if you deserve it.” The cognition seemed to grow more agitated as the other thieves grew antsy behind him, murmuring amongst themselves about how they couldn’t believe that the Cleaner was actually part of the yakuza and that Shido had clear connections to the underground. Joker held a hand out behind him in a nonverbal command for the other thieves to _be silent_ _for once,_ staring the cognition in the eye in challenge. “So, what will it be?” The Cleaner hissed impatiently. “Hurry up, I have shit to do. You know, the _Cleaner_ cleaning up messes? Go on, spit it out already, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Not from a Clan, but we want a letter of introduction,” Joker reiterated, his voice firm, “and you have one. So either we do this the nice way and you give it to us, or we do this the hard way and take it from you. So, _Cleaner_ , what will it be?” 

He never expected anything to take the easy route, especially whenever it concerned the yakuza. 

“Joker, what are you doing?!” Queen hissed, grabbing his forearm in visible alarm. He jerked his arm away, shooting her a narrow-eyed glare. She had no right to question him and his methods, especially since she had blackmailed her way into the group. It seemed that he had been too lenient with them, Queen especially. Ren may have let her boss him around and drag him into stupid situations, but Joker was no pushover. 

(Joker remembered how Makoto had confessed to Ren, the poor teen panicking in his attempts to reject her. He had to take over for Ren so he wouldn’t have been stuck with her as a romantic partner. There was someone much better for the two of them, anyways…)

“Ha! I didn’t expect you to try that shit again, punk, but you really _do_ have some balls.” The cognition burst into a dark matter before reforming as an Ongyo-Ki, its red eyes glinting in anger. “Cocky-ass bastard, if you really want that letter then come and get it! I’ll tear your fucking insides out and rip you apart!” 

Jumping away from the Shadow, Joker placed his hand on his mask, summoning Alice. The pinnacle of the Death arcana had cost him a pretty penny, but she had served him well with this infiltration, instantly killing most Shadows that ambushed them on the rare occasion. 

Joker would have to thank Ren for his relationship with Death later; without it, he would have never been able to acquire Alice from the Twin Wardens. 

“Alice, Concentrate!” He ordered, receiving a playful giggle from the persona in response. He shivered as he felt power wash over him, goosebumps forming from the sensation. (Yes, Alice was a useful persona indeed.) Looking at the other thieves, he wordlessly urged them to do _something_ , anything useful, so they could get the fight over with. Fox called upon Kamu Susano-o, opting to attempt to freeze the Shadow so they could get some hits in. Panther and Noir took Skull and Queen’s places, calling forth Hecate and Astarte and buffing the group. Joker ignored Queen’s piercing glare, casting Maeigaon in the same breath. 

(He would let her be angry; he was doing what needed to be done. She wouldn’t have taken the initiative like he had, she would’ve tried what she had done with the politician—which _didn’t work_. Joker had just cut down on the time. _They needed to get this letter,_ now. The sooner they stole Shido’s Treasure, the better.) 

Joker continued to ignore her for the rest of the fight, giving the Shadow all that he had. He didn’t want to be on this ship for longer than necessary.

Eventually, the Shadow went down, reforming into the Cleaner. 

“Take it,” the cognition huffed, “No point of me staying here, I’m not stupid enough to stay around when Shido’s ship goes down, ‘specially with kids like you running around here. The Captain was great ‘n all, but he’s going down with his ship alone.” Joker watched as the cognition placed its letter down on the control panel before walking off, giving the group a mocking two-fingered wave as it passed by them. Stepping forward, he pocketed the letter of introduction. 

(This was it, they had the final letter… finally, they’d be able to send the calling card and all of this would be over. Joker loved the thrill that the Metaverse gave him, but he _did_ want a break every once and awhile.)

“Let’s head back to the main hall. We have what we need.”

Joker let the others walk towards the entrance first, lingering behind. (Why did he feel eyes on him? Why did it feel as if a certain red-eyed man was watching him like he had just a month ago before putting a bullet in the cognitive version of him?) For the first time in a long while, Joker felt uneasy. There was no way that Goro Akechi knew that they were there, right? 

(He couldn’t be there, Ren made sure to not go out often and if he did, he covered everything up as best as he could. The Phantom Thieves were thought to be without a leader. Goro Akechi, for all intents and purposes, was led to believe that he had shot Ren Amamiya in the head in that lonely interrogation room on November 20th. To him, Ren Amamiya was dead; if his mother could not miraculously return to life, then why would Ren?)

Joker stood still, gunmetal grey scanning the room for any traces of white and red. Nothing. It didn’t mean that he _wasn’t_ there, though— other Palace holders had called him the Black Mask, and back in October he even called himself the Black Mask. Crow had to have another outfit, just like how he has another persona. 

(Ren thought that Goro was a Wild Card like him, but Joker thought otherwise; both Goro and Crow might be special, but there was something about them that was different compared to Ren and Joker and anyone else. He could see parts of it surfacing when Crow thought that nobody was looking, the raspy laughter that was nothing like how the Ace Detective on TV laughed. Ren could see parts of it when Goro would get particularly fired up about a subject, particularly when his father was brought up. It was beautiful, and they both wanted to see more of that other side of Goro and Crow.) 

The eyes followed him as he took one step, then two, three, towards the exit, following the others out—

A near silent thud came from behind him. ( _So he decided to come out of hiding now?_ )

Joker turned around, meeting Crow’s eyes. The way that he was looking at Joker was not unlike the way that Goro had looked at him when he promised him a duel a month ago, maroon eyes narrowed and filled with _something_ ; Joker liked to think that that _something_ was the burning passion that he and Goro held towards Ren and Joker, but Goro _did_ shoot a cognitive Ren in the head, so what did he know? 

“Long time no see, Joker,” Crow cooed, the other thieves whipping around as soon as they heard his voice. Joker distantly registered Skull snarling something, but it didn’t matter to him. 

(What mattered to him was that Crow was standing there right in front of him, what mattered was that _Crow was right there_. Ren was convinced that he would never see Goro again, and Joker had been inclined to think the same.)

(“I believe that fate brings people together,” Goro had once told Ren. Joker didn’t know if Goro and Crow truly believed in fate, but the two of them meeting of all people… it had to have been fate.) 

“I didn’t think you would be here,” Joker responded, his voice a lot closer to Ren’s than he would have liked. “People tend to not come back around after shooting their friend in the head, darling.” Crow responded with a sharp, barking laugh, all traces of whatever Joker had seen in his eyes now gone.

“You did well in deceiving me, Joker. I will admit, I underestimated you and your merry band of fools.” Joker watched with rapt interest as Crow turned into someone entirely different than he usually showed, the calm and somewhat composed Crow now dead to the world. Maroon eyes glinted with mania, narrowing when they landed on him. What was Crow feeling at this very moment? Was he pleased that his rival had survived against all odds, or had he known that Joker would find a way out of it? “You know, you’ve never failed to impress me… I _was_ disappointed when I thought I had killed you, but I believe that now I’m pleasantly surprised. It’s a shame that we hadn’t met earlier— we could’ve been great rivals...or maybe even friends.” _Or something more_ was left unsaid. They both knew how they felt about one another, even if Ren and Goro never attempted to discuss it. 

“Oh? We _aren’t_ rivals? Crow, I’m hurt.” 

( _I thought we could be something more, trésor, didn’t you? Wouldn’t you like to defy fate with me once more?_ ) 

This was no longer the Crow that he knew. This Crow looked as if he had dissociated from the world around him long ago, no longer caring about anyone or anything, not even himself. Was this how Goro was like, back in the interrogation room? Had he dissociated in order to cope with murdering Ren in cold blood? 

“To think that you really believed that bullshit,” Crow spat, breathlessly laughing, “You really don’t let yourself be held back by grudges and past actions, do you? How does it feel to be free, Joker? How does it feel to have a heart that is so free, so naïve? I’m envious, really…” Crow looked almost sad in a way, looking past Joker with unfocused eyes. 

Panther stepped closer to the two of them, almost drawing Joker’s attention to her, but he kept his eyes on Crow. She had often kept quiet during the discussions concerning Goro, but Joker wasn’t entirely sure about her opinion on him; she seemed to relate to him on some level, both being in the media spotlight and having to work to keep face, but other than that, Joker didn’t know. Ren never really talked to Ann about Goro Akechi outside of matters concerning the Phantom Thieves. 

“Akechi…” _Sympathy._ Did Panther really think that Crow would accept sympathy from her? Did she really think that he would accept it from _anyone_? Crow didn’t respond, simply gracing her with a single glance before looking back at Joker. Queen opened her mouth, and before Joker could stop her (knowing that Crow was not too entirely fond of her but begrudgingly respected her ability to quickly put together strategies) she spoke—

“Why are you working with someone like Shido?! Don’t you see how his Palace looks like—”

Crow’s frown quickly turned into a fierce snarl, eyes glinting dangerously underneath his mask. “You really think that I want to work with a piece of shit like him? I don’t care for him just like I don’t care for this country. All of this is to make him— _Masayoshi Shido_ — my _father_ , acknowledge me. As soon as he does that, as soon as he thinks that victory is in his reach, I’ll rip it away from him. I’ll make him feel exactly how I’ve felt for all these years and make him _grovel_ and beg for forgiveness!” Crow held his gaze, stepping forward slightly, no longer talking to the others.

(Nobody else mattered. It was just the two of them, Joker and Crow, Ren and Goro.)

“Do you remember how I once told you about the scum who had left my mother behind when she told him that she was pregnant with me?” 

Joker remembered that day well. He remembered how Ren had been shocked into silence, wanting to reach out and extend a hand in empathy (their father and mother looked down on Ren with disdain any time he didn’t meet their expectations, something that seemed to happen more often the closer that it got to Ren’s arrest; he remembered the silent meals filled with tension—that is, if there was any meals made at all— and the days that Ren spent in solitude, unable to contact anyone who _wouldcouldshould_ support him once he got arrested, his phone having been taken). Instead of reaching out like he wanted to, Ren only told Goro that in some ways they were the same, having been wronged by adults all their lives. He didn’t elaborate, and despite looking as if he wanted to ask, Goro remained silent.

(Goro knew when Ren didn’t want to hear questions, just as Ren knew when Goro didn’t want to elaborate on the things that he said. They never pushed the other too far, never forced the other to say anything that they didn’t want to say. _That_ was part of the reason why their relationship was so special to Ren and Joker; conversation between the two flowed freely and smoothly, even if they disagreed on things, and they learned things about one another because the other _wanted_ them to know. It was never like that with the others—)

“The bastard child of a politician… I was never wanted, even by my own mother.” Another laugh passed his lips, this one more sardonic and bitter, as if Crow truly believed what he was saying. “I ruined everything for her, just by existing. Taking care of me and struggling to keep a job proved to be too much for her, and she killed herself. That’s...that’s why he has to pay, Joker. He was the reason why I was born, and he was the one who left her to raise me alone. He has to pay for what he did to my mother!” 

Crow looked more manic as he continued to speak, looking and speaking to Joker as if he was pleading for him to see his side. (But Joker saw his side even without it; he saw Crow for who he was and who he wanted to be—a child without any guidance growing up solely to take down the one person who hurt his mother the most.) 

“I know, Crow,” he said soothingly, stepping closer to Crow, “and we have the power to take him down now. We can take him down, just you and me. I can help you, but you have to let me. I’m not going to force my way in.”

 _Let me in, please_ , he wanted to say. 

Crow’s eyes looked suspiciously wet as he shook his head, throwing his arms out wide, two Shadows forming beside him as a persona that wasn’t Robin Hood flickered behind him. Joker’s brows furrowed as he registered the sounds of alarm from the Thieves, all of them scrambling into position.

( _Why? Why won’t you let me in? Have I not proven myself worthy of you? Have I not proven myself worthy of seeing all that you are and can be?_ )

“You and I both know that you can’t help me now, Joker,” was all that Joker had received in reply, the two of them separating themselves from the Thieves and the Shadows; Panther shouted something out in response, but Joker waved her concern off, calling Arsène just as a sword came down on him. Crow had summoned his other persona, all traces of the Ace Detective gone and replaced with something more untamed, more _alive_ than the Ace Detective had ever been; the white outfit was gone as well, replaced with something darker, more fitting for Crow’s namesake. “I finally have the power to take Shido down with Loki by my side… Do you understand now, Joker? Can you still look at me, even after everything that I’ve done? Can you still look at me, knowing that I am the one responsible for the mental shutdowns that have killed people? I am a _murderer_ , Joker. I shot you in cold blood—”

( _I killed you I killed you Ikilledyoukilledyoukilledyou—_ his eyes said, maroon staring into gunmetal grey with regret)

Joker cut Crow off quickly. “You shot a cognitive version of Ren Amamiya, Crow,” he breathed, the weight of his dagger heavy in his hand, “Even then, even if you knew that it was a fake, I know that you suffered. That would’ve been the first outside of the Metaverse, done by your own hand, and someone that you were very close with nonetheless.”

Joker couldn’t hear the other Thieves fighting the summoned Shadows anymore. For now, the world only consisted of Crow and himself. Nobody else mattered. The clashing of their blades were the only sounds that accompanied their dance, twisting and weaving out of range of the other’s blade. Arsène protected him from Loki’s erratic swings, eventually capturing his hands, the blade falling to the floor and disappearing within seconds. And like their personas, both Joker and Crow were also at a stalemate, their blades pressing against the other with force in an attempt to hold the other back.

“If only things were different,” Crow murmured, his face so close to Joker’s that he could just barely hold himself back from leaning forward, the black mask gone from his face. “I wish we had met earlier… I’d like to think that you would’ve kept me from this path.” His thief pressed his sword against his dagger, pushing Joker’s arms closer to his own chest. “But there’s no use in talking hypotheticals, we can’t change the past, no matter how much we regret things…”

The laugh that slipped past Crow’s lips sounded almost like it was a quiet sob, the sound painful to his ears. He never wanted to see his thief in this state and it was one of the most excruciating things that he had experienced—

“It’s so unfair,” Crow whispered with a wavering voice, looking him in the eye. “It’s so unfair.” 

“I know, trésor,” he replied gently, chest aching at the strangled sound that left Crow’s lips, “Neither of us asked for this. I know I can’t take that pain away from you and I can’t erase what you’ve already done.”

( _Even still, you are my most precious. I see you for what and who you are and I accept you._ )

Joker didn’t want to look away from Crow. How could he, when Crow was the only person in any world that he could be entirely truthful to? How could he look away from someone who shined so brightly and held such conviction for justice that he would go to any length to get it? 

(Why would he look away from the one person that he could be _Ren Amamiya_ without fear of being abandoned?)

With a sudden burst of strength, Crow pushed his sword closer to Joker’s neck, nicking it slightly, before leaning forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. Joker’s breathing stuttered for a moment, not expecting the kiss. His thief had surprised him before, but this… this had to top it all. 

( _“You never cease to astound me.” It had always gone both ways. But this time… why did it feel like Crow was saying goodbye to him?_ )

“Ever since my mother had died, I had imagined Shido on his knees, begging for forgiveness for what he had done to my mother… Two years of putting my plans to action, of being nothing more than his _dog_ —” Crow spat, “—two years of selling my soul to the devil, and then you came along. I only had a few more weeks left until my plans would come to fruition, and then you had to come around and fuck it up!” 

“I...I can fix this, I can fix this. But that means that all of you will have to die today. Even you, Joker...” 

“I’m sorry,” Crow whispered into his ear, taking advantage of his shock, the pressure against his dagger easing up slightly, “I’m so so sorry.” 

There was pressure on his chest for a fleeting moment, a hand pressing on him and sending him back a few steps, then it was gone.

Crow was farther away from him now, not even looking at him. Joker looked back to see the other Thieves, ready for his command, as if they were soldiers and he their general (the Star often referred to Ren and spoke to him about strategy as if he were the general on a battlefield, his main goal to keep the soldiers on the battlefield alive; Joker held some respect for the young woman in that aspect, her strategies helping him out nicely in the Metaverse). 

They were really going to fight against Crow now, were they? Even after Joker had tried his best to de-escalate the situation and pull Crow to their side—to _his_ side…

(He never wanted things to turn out this way. He knew that they were on opposite sides, be it by force or by something else, but…)

“To think that the power to drive people insane was born from his heart…” Queen had murmured to the other Thieves, Joker just barely hearing it. The quiet comment made Joker see red for a moment. 

They didn’t know Crow like he did. They didn’t know Goro like Ren did. 

They had no right to assume that they knew why he had done what he has; they weren’t the ones who heard Goro opening up about his childhood, the lonely days at home by himself after a day filled with vitriol from children who simply repeated what they heard their own parents say, followed by the nights spent with a mother who was too worn, too tired, to want to do anything with her son. They didn’t know how he cherished anything that his mother could do for him because they had next to nothing, bills and rent making even putting food on the table a difficult task. They didn’t see how Goro had nearly cried when Ren had bought him that jellyfish plush at the aquarium after their date—

(—they didn’t know anything about the real Goro Akechi at all.)

“That’s enough,” he snapped, watching Queen’s mouth click shut without another comment, the others eying the two of them apprehensively. He turned his attention back to Crow—

—only to see a fake with the face of his Crow staring back at him, dull maroon eyes holding no interest, no glint of life whatsoever. It was wearing the outfit that Goro had worn when Ren had first met him, but the clothes didn’t look right on it; everything about the fake looked plastic, lifeless. A sly smile appeared on its lips as it mockingly clapped, each clap sounding like a gunshot in the air. 

“How precious, a traitor and a thief. Trash always sticks together, doesn’t it? But really, I can’t say that I’m too disappointed. The Captain was going to get rid of you after the election anyways.” Joker froze, eyes darting between the fake and Crow. Crow said nothing, only giving a low growl in response, clenching his fists. “Oh? Did you really not expect that, little puppet? You _were_ always a liability, and the Captain is no fool. Once he gets what he wants, you’ll be tossed to the side.” 

Crow let out a bitter laugh, the sound of it echoing off of the metal walls. “I should have expected this… He never would have let me run free with the knowledge of his orders. I had always wondered how he’d protect himself if I used my power to tear through his Palace. So you… you’re how he protects himself against me—using a puppet to kill me… sounds like something that that bastard would do.” He looked as if he were preparing himself for a fight, but Joker knew that all of this had taken a toll on Crow. His breathing was heavier, more ragged, his hands shaking slightly. 

(Goro never had been the best at taking care of himself, always pushing himself beyond his limits. Ren had often made him a serving of mild curry to go along with his coffee when he stopped by LeBlanc, the other always looking grateful for the free meal. Sojiro never said anything to him about it, and he knew that Sojiro spotted the signs as well; Goro always had bags underneath his eyes, as if he never got enough sleep, and always looked so drained. Ren knew for a fact that Goro went to bed late, kept up by school and case assignments. All of that had to weigh down heavily on a person, and if Ren could help shoulder that burden, then he would do it without question.)

(Crow was the same way, Joker had found. He always used flashy yet powerful moves that left him drained, and part of him wondered if it was because the other was trying to prove to the Phantom Thieves that he was useful, that he _belonged_ despite essentially being made the team pariah.)

The fake tsked in response, drawing a gun from its coat and pointing it at Crow. Crow didn’t react for the most part, his upper lip curling into a snarl as he attempted to make himself taller in a failed act of dominance. Joker’s fingers twitched, but he remained still, unsure if the fake would shoot Crow if anyone moved. 

Nobody dared to even breathe, the room going silent for a few moments before the fake opened its mouth to speak once more. 

“That’s right, I would do anything for the Captain,” the fake droned, as if they were boring it, “But look at _you_ — you are the true puppet. You wanted to be acknowledged, didn’t you—”

—maybe Ren and Joker couldn’t give him the acknowledgment that he wanted, but they could _see_ Goro Akechi and Crow for who they are, and they see what they could be (by their side, they could fight against the cruel world that had damned them and made them suffer, they could do so much more together than they could apart)—

“—you wanted to be _loved_ —”

—Ren Amamiya loved Goro Akechi. Joker loved Crow. He had what he wanted, he _had_ to know that they had feelings for them, there was no way that they _didn’t_ know—

“—But you’ve been nothing but a puppet from the very beginning. How disappointing.” The mocking tone of the fake’s voice didn’t match the plastic smile on its face, the artificially saccharine smile making Joker’s skin crawl in revulsion. 

(So this was how Goro’s father thought of him?)

The rest of the Thieves seemed to agree, voicing their own sentiments.

“What a piece of shit, forcing his son to do all of that stuff and then pinning all of the blame on him!” A resounding stomp followed Skull’s statement, the energy of the Chariot growing wild and restless with indignation. 

“How...how awful! How could someone think of their own son like that!” The Priestess’ bond was frigid from both horror and anger, Queen tightening her grip on her brass knuckles.

“W-We can still change his heart together! Even if— no, _because_ he’s your father!” Noir’s declaration was followed by the stern-yet-soothing pull of the Empress bond, settling in place after a moment.

His chest felt warm. Was this pride in his teammates, the ones who he thought he had lost faith in? 

(The cards that were once set in reverse after that day were flipped upright again. Maybe Joker didn’t trust them completely as he once had before, but a part of him preened with pride. Ren had always expected them to stick with him when he needed them the most, and here they are.)

The fake turned its head back towards them, no longer paying attention to Crow, who was struggling to remain upright. (Why was he so injured? Joker didn’t think that he had done anything to Crow during their brief fight, so why did he look so drained of energy? Did something happen outside of the Metaverse to Goro?) 

“You’re all so annoying,” the fake snarled, “Keep it up, and I’ll take you all out first. In fact—” Several Shadows formed behind the fake, and it looked smug at the surprised looks that it received from the Thieves. 

“N-No… it isn’t alone, it has Shadows too…” 

Panther’s comment made the fake smile; it didn’t look right on Goro’s face, even though Ren _had_ seen Goro make a face similar to that before—it looked more organic, more _authentic_ on the real Goro’s face. Joker’s stomach churned. Why did it feel like something bad was going to happen? 

“I’ll let someone take his place. Trash for trash, right? Who knows, maybe you might delay his death. I mean, you guys _are_ all about doing things for others, aren’t you? That’s just the same as me—I’m going to take the blame for the Captain. I’m going to die for him, too.” Joker swallowed down the angry snarl that wanted to bubble and pour out of his mouth, the comparison between what Shido saw Goro as versus the Phantom Thieves making him feel ill. They were nobody’s mutt— _Goro_ was nobody’s mutt. 

(The fact that Shido attempted to justify his murders as something that was _right_ and _for the better good_ was laughable. He felt sick.)

“This is what Shido thinks about Akechi, even after all that he’s done to force him into committing these murders?!” Queen spat, enraged. “This man is despicable!”

“Here,” the fake said, turning to look back at Crow, “I’ll give you one last chance. Shoot them. Shoot the leader. This is what you were made for, don’t forget.”

Joker heard another laugh come from Crow before he finally stood up straight, pointing his gun at him. He didn’t dare move. This is what Crow wanted, wasn’t it? Unshakeable trust from another person, his equal?

(He had it. He always had it, even when Ren had found out that Goro was in a plot that would lead to his death.) 

He said nothing. He didn’t have to. He never had to.

_Take your shot, Crow. Prove to the others that you are trustworthy, that you always have been._

“Yes, that’s the you that the Captain wishes to see. Don’t stray from the purpose for which you were made,” the fake cooed, still pointing the gun at Crow. It seemed like they were at an impasse; either Crow shoots Joker and the fake shoots him anyways, or the fake shoots Crow and then takes care of the rest of them. Joker didn’t like the cards that he had been dealt this time. 

(But if Crow had shown him anything… then it would be that you could always turn the odds in your favour, even if it means cheating.)

“Don’t misunderstand,” his thief hissed, “ _you_ are the one who’s going to disappear!” He turned to the fake.

Two shots fired simultaneously. 

The two of them had been hit, but Crow didn’t let his wound stop him, pointing the gun once more in Joker’s direction before firing, the bullet flying past him and hitting a button.

_No. No no no no no no!_

Shaking off his shock, Joker took a step forward, ready to pull Crow close to him to check on his wound—

“The watertight bulkhead door has closed. All personnel within the partition wall: please evacuate at once.”

—the wall quickly came up, separating him from Crow, the blaring alarm bouncing around in his head, becoming louder and louder, even as Panther jerked him back—

“Hurry up and go,” Crow had said to them breathlessly, his voice barely reaching them, the alarms making it hard to hear. Joker slammed his fists on the partition wall, digging his nails into the grooves of the wall. _Please, no_. _Don’t take him away from me_. 

“Goro!” His voice was weak, full of desperation for the one person who he considered his equal, the one person in this entire world who knew him the best. “D-Don’t—”

“You guys are fools… you should have left me long ago. If you tried taking on these Shadows with me weighing you down… all of you would’ve died.”

A wet cough followed his words.

_No, no._

_Don’t do this to me._

_I’ve already lost you once, please._

_We were supposed to fight the world together, don’t leave me like this._

“—Let’s make a deal, okay?” his other half said, just as weak, “You won’t say no, will you?”

“But why now?!” Fox asked, voice forlorn. Ren ignored him in favour of trying to force the wall to go back down, soft cries spilling from his lips in his panic. Why was the wall not coming back down? Why is he not there with Goro? 

“Change...change Shido’s heart in my stead… end his crimes. Please!”

Why was this how they were going to say goodbye? 

“You better come back,” Ren murmured, his forehead against the wall, “I’ll hold onto your glove, _rival_.” He could hear a quiet laugh, his body trembling in response. 

“You… even after all this time, that’s what you have to say to this? You really are…” Goro’s voice died off, and Ren could distantly register hearing a young girl murmuring soft condolences in his ear.

(“ _I am thou, thou art I…” but what use was there if the one person that he had connected to most was leaving him behind? He couldn’t bring himself to care about who he was and what was him._ ) 

He could hear Goro leaning against the other side of the wall, attempting to stand up. 

“To think that my final enemy is a puppet version of myself. I—” 

(He didn’t want to let Goro go. Not now, not ever. Not...not like this.)

“Mona, Oracle, can’t either of you get this thing open?! We can’t leave him here like this!” If he had the strength to move, Ren would’ve turned and thanked Panther for her words; the last words that he had been able to say were all gone now, rightfully given to Goro. She had caught on to their… whatever they had early on. If anyone knew what they had together, it was her. 

(Joker would say that Panther embodied the Lovers tarot with how she could see the way that they completed one another, how they seemed to be one at times. Ren would say that Ann was just smarter than people gave her credit for.)

Before anyone else could speak, two gunshots rang out. 

“His signal is gone…” Oracle said quietly, her voice wavering slightly, “I’m… I’m only getting the weaker Shadows.”

He wanted to collapse. He couldn’t breathebreathebreathebreathe. 

(He was shaking. Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?) 

He felt Panther’s hand on his back, and he just barely resisted the urge to throw it off. Ren knew that she meant well, but it wasn’t doing anything for him. 

(The one person who could comfort him wasn’t here anymore, and he didn’t want to believe it. Goro had to be alivealivealive! He had to be!)

“Come on, guys! We can’t let someone like Shido get away with his crimes,” Mona urged, but Ren couldn’t even bring himself to move away from the wall. Why did things have to turn out like this? Why couldn’t they have just been happy? 

(Why could nobody understand how he felt at this current moment?)

~~(Goro would understand.)~~

Panther gently led him out of the engine room. He felt numb. All that was left was a cold place where Goro once inhabited, his chest aching from where the other teen had been torn away from him.

(If Ren cried that night, holding the one thing that he had left of Goro Akechi, then nobody but the stars and moon knew.) 


	5. The First Reunion Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not me, hitting the wrong button while editing 😭

## The First Reunion Kiss

December 24th, 2016

Ren felt tired. Worn. Raw. If someone had told him nearly a year ago that he would get arrested, be shipped away to Tokyo, and end up being the leader of a notorious group that ended up killing a god that wasn’t _really_ a god, but instead something called a demiurge (as Lavenza would later inform him), he would’ve laughed in their face and asked if they had taken something. 

(If someone told him that he would fall in love with another boy who ended up attempting to kill him, well, Ren would’ve likely just accepted it—that just sounded like something that would happen to him, given his luck.) 

If he had any strength left, he would’ve felt angry at the mention of Yaldabaoth, but he just felt numb. The false god that had toyed with him and dragged him around as if he were a puppetpuppetpuppet was dead, killed by the bullet that came from Satanael. The false god that had strung both Ren and _him_ along and used them as its playthings was no more.

_We did it, Goro. It’s over._

December 10th had been the only day that Ren had been able to mourn the one person that he couldn’t save. After he had been dragged out of the Metaverse by Ann, she hesitantly let him go back to LeBlanc on his own, the rest of the Thieves departing in silence. Ren sent Morgana with Futaba, wanting to be alone. (He felt guilty; he knew that Morgana was worried about him, but he just wanted to be _alone_ so he could mourn in peace. After seeing Goro for the last time, there was no use trying to deny his feelings for the other teen. Maybe Mona wouldn’t have judged him for his feelings, but Ren felt as if his feelings for Goro had to stay private. If Mona knew about them… it would feel as if he had betrayed Goro, somehow. Ren never got to tell Goro what he meant to him, and it would be left unsaid.)

Everything after had just happened so fast— on the 11th, Futaba hijacked TV stations all over Tokyo to deliver their final calling card. 

(Ren wanted to scream when Shido revealed that he _knew_ Goro was his son all along. Joker wanted to end him then and there, but he showed restraint, wanting the man to suffer for all that he had done. For all that he had forced Goro to do.)

(Goro, the boy who had grew up without a father and eventually a mother, believing that he was a cursed child who had pushed his mother to suicide. Goro, the boy who grew up in places where there was never enough food, who struggled to take care of himself. Goro, the boy who was given the power to do something by a false god who had nothing but malicious intentions for him and took advantage of him. Goro, the one person in this world who had made him feel things that went beyond platonic.)

(Goro, the boy who he loved. Goro, the boy who he allowed to die.)

After they stole Shido’s Treasure, he had disappeared and the Palace collapsed. In their escape, Ryuji had volunteered to get the lifeboat that they could use to get a safe distance away from the ship before exiting the Metaverse; when the ship exploded with him still on it, Ren had thought that he had led yet another friend to their death. 

When Ryuji walked up to the group as if everything was normal, Ren was _angry_. He was glad that his friend was alive, yes, but how cruel did fate have to be to make him believe that Ryuji was dead too, only for him to come back? Why did Ryuji come back when Goro didn’t? Why take Goro away from him when he was Ren’s equal? 

(What god had he pissed off to lose the person he loved?)

After they stole Shido’s Treasure, it was a tense week of waiting. Ren refused to go out, staying in his attic for most of the day and coming down only to talk to Sojiro and help clean the café after closing. He knew that Sojiro was worried about him, his situation growing more similar to Futaba’s by the day, but Ren was _fine_. He just needed time and space. 

He was _fine_. Finefinefinefinefine. 

~~It wasn’t as if he missed Goro, anyways.~~

~~He hated it.~~

~~He missed Goro so much.~~

Futaba must’ve told Sojiro what had happened sometime during that week, because Sojiro gave him some space and let him do his own thing. Ren appreciated that, more than he thinks he could ever be able to express. He knew that the other Thieves meant well, but Ryuji asking if he wanted to go on a run and talk wouldn’t heal the ache in his chest that was left from Goro’s absence. Sojiro knew what he needed and gave it to him; after all, he wasn’t the only person who had lost someone that they loved. 

The others didn’t know what he needed though, and when they suggested a party to celebrate Shido’s confession, Sojiro had to ask them to leave, noticing Ren’s tense and trembling form. It was only after the others had left that Ren had allowed himself to break down, crying into Sojiro’s chest. The older man let him, rubbing his back in a comforting way that his own father had never done before, and for what wasn’t the first time, Ren wished that Sojiro was his father.

(Did they forget who they lost during their last heist? Did they even care?)

Nobody bothered to mention a party after that. 

They all had thought that once Shido had confessed to his crimes, things would go as they normally did—the media would be in an uproar, and things would begin to change.

But things didn’t change, at all. 

Ren had watched Shido’s confession live on the television in LeBlanc with the others, eventually having to look away from the man’s piteous act, feeling sick. Not once did he admit to what he had done to his own son.

(A part of him wished that Joker hadn’t held back and had shot him in the Palace. Goro didn’t deserve to die there, and he certainly didn’t deserve to die to the thing that Shido had perceived him as.)

What nobody in the group expected was how people seemed to quickly forget Shido’s confession and wanted him to take up the role of prime minister. What was different about Shido that made the public not care about what he had confessed? 

What was different this time? Nobody knew the answer, and so the group dismissed themselves, feeling uneasy. Morgana allowed Ren to brood in silence that night, spending most of it awake and staring at the glove that Goro had thrown at Joker. 

(It hurt to think about him.)

When he slipped into his sleep, it was a short and uneasy one, and he woke up only three hours later, his chest feeling heavier than before.

Maybe he really had failed Goro. Did this really count as keeping his promise? 

Ren had to put up with people talking about Shido and how he should be the prime minister for a week along with the stress of having to stay hidden so he wouldn’t get arrested _again_ (at this point, he had an interesting track record and he wondered if he was ever going to be able to live a normal life after this, considering he had been arrested twice and had been revealed as the leader of the Phantom Thieves) before they figured out what was wrong. 

He never thought that the Phantom Thieves would have to steal the heart of the public, but they had to avoid Ren’s rearrest _somehow_ —revealing himself in Shido’s calling card had been a bold move and now he had to pay the price. The police knew his face and they knew that he wasn’t off in the morgue somewhere as his death certificate had said. 

(He did his best to ignore the fact that his parents never called, even after he was pronounced dead. They hadn’t cared before they shipped him off to Tokyo, and they sure as hell wouldn’t care now.)

At Morgana’s behest, the group entered Mementos on Christmas Eve, making their way into the deepest depths to find the Treasure that rested within. Neither Ren nor Joker had expected to see a false god in the depths of the public’s cognition, but then again, they never expected many things, their only choice being to roll with the punches. 

The demiurge had proven to be powerful, aided by the will of the public, and the Phantom Thieves had fallen. Thrust into the center of Shibuya, ~~Joker~~ Ren had to watch as his ~~teammates~~ friends disappeared before his eyes, succumbing to despair just moments afterwards.

(It was dark. Cold. Lonely. Was this how Goro felt when he—)

It was then that he learned of the truth of how he had been manipulated for the past year by a being that believed that humanity was better off being simply mindless beasts, controlled solely by its will. 

(A power that the people had unknowingly given it, falling victim to its schemes as well.) 

The Treasure that had no business being a god had attempted to cut him a deal, but Ren couldn’t take it. Why would he accept the honeyed lies of the being that led Goro to his death? Why would he accept anything from the very being that had made Goro’s life a living hell? 

Ren didn’t know why _he_ was chosen to be the Trickster, the most dangerous inmate of the Prison of Regression. He didn’t know why Goro had been chosen by Yaldabaoth as the foil to humanity’s continued existence. He really didn’t know anything, other than the fact that the two of them had been pitted against each other since the very beginning, and they danced to the false god’s tune near flawlessly. 

It pissed him off.

Neither of them had any way of knowing that they were just pawns in a game for higher beings. Ren wondered just how long Yaldabaoth had had these plans concocted, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike, to use two teenage boys and make them fight for their lives and for humanity’s existence— or destruction. 

(Why them? Why take two lost boys who didn’t have a place in this world and place the weight of the world on their shoulders?)

(But Ren already knew why. Push a child in one direction enough and they are easily manipulated, strung along by the most shallow compliments and the drive to keep receiving the praise. Give a lost child a place, whether it be good or bad, and they will stay there, because they have nowhere else to go. Yaldabaoth had found the perfect candidates in the two of them, and it had turned the cards in its favour. Ren was never supposed to have won the supposed game that he and Goro had played, Yaldabaoth was always going to win.)

But Yaldabaoth had lost, falling victim to its own hubris. 

And here he was, standing in Shibuya on Christmas Eve, the general public not knowing what he did—what he had sacrificed— to keep them safe. 

(He missed Arsène. He missed Goro. He missed Mona.)

Alone.

Ren stared idly at the display signs, wondering if there was anything that he could have done differently that year. Could he have avoided this all completely? Would things be different, would Goro still be alive? 

“You know, I didn’t expect to see Japan’s saviour alone on Christmas Eve,” he heard from behind him, turning around to look at Sae. He gave her a noncommittal shrug, not exactly wanting to speak to her at that moment. When he looked at her, all he can think of is the needles jabbing into his skin, the officers hurtinghurtinghurting him and his head being slammed into the floor and raised voices yelling at him to confess to murder and a gun being pointed at his head andandand—

—he didn’t like speaking to her. It made him nervous. 

“Anyways, can I talk to you for a moment? It’s...about something important.” Sae seemed to take a deep breath before giving him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “First of all, thank you for taking my request. With your actions, I can only hope that the public opinion towards Shido and his crimes will change. It will change, won’t it?”

(And that was the million dollar question; with the destruction of Mementos, Ren was almost certain that the public would revert back to normal and be baying for Shidos blood, just as they had with the other criminals that they had gone after.)

“We’ll find out soon,” he settled on saying, watching Sae’s mouth turn down slightly.

“I suppose so,” she acquiesced, “However, Shido has confessed to a multitude of crimes that we can arrest and charge him for.”

(Why did he feel as if there was something else coming, something that he wouldn’t like?)

“—the problem lies in proving that he is guilty.”

Ah, there it was. 

“Unless the correlation between the Metaverse and the mental shutdowns are proven, then it’ll be difficult for the charges to stick. Everything that you told me that day… it sounded like something out of a storybook. No judge would believe it without someone to corroborate it and give a firsthand account.” Sae sighed before looking Ren in the eyes, the colour reminding Ren of the person that he had lost. “...I’ll be blunt. I want you to turn yourself in to the police.”

Turn himself in? After everything that he had done, everything that he had sacrificed, he was being asked to _turn himself in_? 

Ren could barely hear the crowd around the two of them, blood pounding in his ears. 

(He didn’t have a choice though—he wouldn’t be able to make Shido pay for his crimes, for everything that he had done to Goro, if he didn’t turn himself in. Shido would be allowed to run free and Goro would have died for _nothing_.)

It was getting harder to breathe. 

He didn’t want to go back, he didn’t want to be around the police again. What if they drugged him again? What if they beat him again? Hecan’thecan’thecan’t—

“I’ll open every case surrounding Shido and expose him. He won’t get away from this, and it’ll keep the public from becoming distorted again. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” 

Ren was tired of being manipulated. _Nobody_ knew what he wanted. He was so tired of being used as the means to an end. 

( _Is this how Goro felt? Is that why he chose to—_ )

“There’s no need for that, Sae-san.” Time seemed to stop in that very moment for Ren. Had he—? 

Someone walked up to the two of them, stopping beside Ren. He couldn’t bring himself to look up, struggling with the tears that were adamant on falling from his eyes. 

_He hadn’t died, he’s okay, he’s right hereherehere—_

“Akechi-kun?!” Sae’s shocked gasp served as affirmation for him, and it was enough to send him forward, catching the other teen off guard as he reached up and tenderly held the other’s face, taking in every detail that he could.

(Had he never noticed how Goro uses foundation to cover up his freckles? How had he not noticed that? How had he never noticed that Goro’s hair curled just slightly at the ends, or how his hair had red tints to it that came out the best under natural light?)

(Why was he just doing this _now_?)

Goro stood in shocked silence, his cheeks flushed slightly (Ren didn’t know if it was due to the cold or by his own actions, but at that moment he didn’t care. Goro was here and in front of him and alive and he was so happy—), the colour creating a lovely contrast on his pale skin. Before Ren even knew what he was doing, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on Goro’s forehead, raising up slightly on his tiptoes to do so.

He was alive. _Goro Akechi is alivealivealive._

“You’re alive,” Ren breathed, voice cracking from the sheer amount of relief he was feeling at that moment, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re alive— I-I’m so _happy_ , I’m glad that you’re okay, Goro—”

But Goro pulled away from him, cheeks still crimson under the city lights.

“I’m glad to see you too,” the other mumbled, “but now’s not the time.” Clearing his throat, Goro turned to Sae, who had averted her eyes out of privacy for the two of them. Ren could feel his cheeks warm, feeling a brief flicker of shame at his display. “Sae-san, if they get their hands on the true perpetrator, they won’t need Ren to turn himself in, right?” Goro’s voice was no longer warm and gentle, a complete 180 to how he had just spoken to Ren. The way Goro had just changed masks—or rather, put on a mask for the prosecutor— made his head spin.

(Was this how others felt around him? He almost felt sorry about it.)

Sae’s brows furrowed at Goro’s question. She looked over the two of them uncertainly, eyes flickering with traces of confusion and doubt. “When you say that, do you mean—?”

“It’s exactly what you think,” his ~~heart’s desire~~ ~~soulmate~~ friend said, the cheerfulness on his countenance a mere façade, “I’ll testify against Shido and his crimes. There is no need to arrest Ren now, is there?” Goro eyed Ren, almost daring Ren to speak against him, his voice holding no room for argument.

He wanted to argue, but Goro wasn’t going to let him win if he did. Ren struggled to remain calm, clenching his fists. He felt angry. Confused. Maybe even a little bit embarrassed. 

Why? Why was Goro like this? Why let Ren see him and then allow himself to be whisked away? _Whywhywhywhy?_

(Goro would be lucky if he got out of prison any time soon, especially with what he was going to confess to. Ren wouldn’t likely see the other again, and he can’t have that. Not again.) 

_You can’t do that,_ he tried to say, but Goro shut that down quickly, glaring at him. His mouth clicked shut. Sae eyed them warily for a moment, as if she was a child watching her parents argue, before giving Goro a nod. 

“You would be correct in making that assumption… I’ll take it as your word that you’ll cooperate during the investigation.” Goro gave her a nod accompanied by a fake smile. It seemed to satisfy her enough because she then turned her gaze on Ren. “Please forget everything that I just told you in that case, then. I’ll take Akechi-kun in myself.”

And with that, he had lost the person who was probably the most important person in his life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fret not, there will be a happy ending! Hopefully I can finish and start uploading the next part soon.
> 
> You can find me on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/x_tobefree_x) for updates. Please don't follow if you're under 18, anyone who does follow and is under 18 will be promptly softblocked; I can't stop you from _looking_ —as I have no way to gatekeep who sees my content unless I lock my account— but please keep in mind that it's a nsfw account and will have said content on it! The next part should have a chapter roll out in about a week or so, I'm working very hard to finish this up.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed it!


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